The Photo
by appleslovetea
Summary: If Akihito had been on his right mind that night, he would have stayed away from Asami's master suite...As things were though, Tabaka Akihito was very much pissed off and equality out of control at the time, which was why he found himself trapped between a wall and Asami's body.


**A/N: You know you are obsessed with Viewfinder when you stumble upon random short stories stored away in your computer, that you don't even remember writing LoL X)**

If Akihito had been on his right mind that night, he would have stayed away from Asami's master suite. He would have locked himself in his bedroom, and finished developing the photos he was due to deliver to his boss in the morning.

As things were though, Tabaka Akihito was very much pissed off and equality out of control that evening, which was why he found himself trapped between a wall and Asami's chiseled body.

His hands were busy unbuttoning the front of the business man's shirt, while his head snapped backwards, the veins in his neck straining as the older man tentatively grazed his lips over the skin there.

An upset moan escaped the photographer's lips, clearly indicating he wanted to be taken fast and roughly this time, but when he heard Asami chuckle in return, he knew his lover was teasing him with slowness on purpose.

When Akihito finally managed to strip them both of their shirts, Asami led him to bed, letting go only so he could throw the former down on the mattress.

The photographer fell on the neat covers with a soft thud, his legs splaying out as if he was giving himself to his lover with no reservations. His mind was so foggy with desire, he only half registered seeing Asami's amused grin.

"What's wrong with you tonight?" The older man asked. "You're not usually this…willing."

Crazed with lust and frustration, Akihito sat up in bed, grabbing the back of Asami's trousers just below the latter's butt. He looked upwards towards his lover's face, his eyelids half closed.

"Please…Sleep with me." He pleaded in a desperate voice, much to Asami's surprise.

Akihito was clearly out of his mind at the time, since a couple of minutes later, when they were both finally naked, the photographer found himself pushing Asami down on the mattress and straddling the older man's thighs.

Once he found himself on top of the business man though, looking down at the latter's amused face, Akihito hesitated.

Why was he doing this? Was Akihito really about to vent his frustrations by having angry sex?... And with the guy he was angry with in the first place?... Not to mention the guy in question apparently did not realize the photographer was pissed off at him! To Asami, the photographer's uncharacteristic behavior that night probably seemed more like a source of amusement than anything else.

Feeling suddenly embarrassed with himself, the younger man started to move off of his lover.

However, with a swift movement, Asami's legs shot up under him, toppling Akihito over his bare chest. "I can tell you're mad about something." The business whispered into his lover's ear, surprising Akihito.

The latter was sure his eyes were wide open as he stared down at Asami's face. He searched the depths of his mind for some kind of half-assed excuse to give to his lover in relation to his odd antics that night, but the sly smile that appeared all of a sudden on the older man's face completely disarmed him.

"It's ok." Asami said, with an unexpectedly soothing tone. "You can vent whatever is bothering you on me. I don't mind."

Akihito let out a shaky breath, shut down his brain and let his body go.

Reaching between his lover's thighs, he held the latter's length up and sat down on him hard. He bit his lower lip to stop himself from shouting as he took all of Asami inside him.

He was so angry and hurt, he just felt like crying.

* * *

Akihito woke up the next day to find Asami already up and nearly fully dressed for the day.

"'Morning." He heard the older man say, as the latter finished putting on his suit's jacket in front of the bedroom's mirror.

The photographer greeted him back sleepily, sitting up in bed while rubbing the small of his back with his hand. He had a feeling he'd have trouble walking around that day.

"What time is it?" He asked, noticing that the sun wasn't yet fully up on the horizon.

"Around 8:00 am."

"…It's pretty early…Why are you up so soon?"

Asami either didn't notice, or chose to ignore his lover's intrigued tone.

"I have an early meeting. Kirishima is already downstairs with the limo waiting for me." The business man replied, picking up his briefcase.

Akihito pulled his knees up to his chest, embracing them with his arms. "…Will you be late again tonight?" He asked quietly.

Asami suddenly stopped, his eyes widening ever so slightly at the question. His surprised reaction only lasted a second though. "Yes…I suppose I will." He answered, casually. "I have a lot to do at the office. Don't bother with waiting up for me tonight. You can go ahead and eat dinner on your own."

" _Again?_ " Akihito thought, biting down his lower lip. It was the third time that week that Asami had skipped dinner with him, and the third time he'd justified his absence with 'a lot to do at the office'. Akihito didn't say anything out loud though.

When his mind came back to the present he found that his lover had moved closer to the bed and was now sitting on the mattress beside him.

"How are you feeling today?" Asami asked, an unusual concerned look clouding his features, as he moved in with his hand to ruffle Akihito's hair.

"I'm fine!" The photographer lied, pulling away from the older man's touch. "Last night…I just had too much to drink, that's all. Sorry if I acted weird."

Asami stared at him in silence for a few moments, his current expression not really giving away whether or not he believed in the younger man's words.

"Well, try not to get into too much trouble today, kid." The older man eventually said; his expression softening somewhat as he got up and moved towards the bedroom door. "I'll see you tomorrow." He added, before disappearing from Akihito's view.

The photographer stayed in bed long after he heard the front door of the apartment opening and closing. Somehow he found the penthouse's silence suffocating that morning.

He reached for his jeans, discarded on the floor next to the bed the night before, and stuck a hand in their back pocket; secretly hoping he wouldn't find there what deep down he knew he would.

When his fingers touched the photograph, he couldn't help but chuckle bitterly at his own naiveté. How stupid of him to think for even a second that _it_ had all been a bad dream!

He took out the photograph and stared at it again, although after doing the same exact thing countless times over the past 24 hours, the action had become pretty pointless. The image was already engraved with all its details in his mind.

To think that an innocent picture that Mitarai had taken at a stakeout mission had managed to turn Akihito's world upside down!

Akihito's colleague had been sent two days ago by their news agency to spy on Asami's exclusive VIP club Dracaena, hoping to take a few incriminating photographs of a famous politician and his popstar mistress exiting the premises together.

He had been very successful in his endeavor, and a couple of Mitarai's pictures had even been sold to the gossip press.

Not all of them had proven of interest to the press though, and many ended up being discarded.

Including the one that Akihito now held in his hands.

…The one that clearly showed Dracaena's owner, Asami Ryuuchi, tenderly embracing a young dark-haired woman in his arms.

(to be continued…)

 **A/N: Asami, how could you? LoL**


End file.
